am still of the age where everything feels good. even hurt, it all feels good. pray that never changes.

reminded myself what a.m. and p.m. stand for: ante meridiem and post meridiem, latin for before and after mid-day.

kicked around the feasibility of some sort of nafta-expansion that would give all united states, canadian, and mexican citizens the right to live, work, and travel freely in each others' countries. with the current state of the euro, it's hard to imagine currency unification makes any sense and this idea doesn't necessitate open borders, either - everyone still has to pass through inspection, so other non-citizens legally in one of these three countries couldn't simply hop into another. why are we constricting ourselves?

'where is the un, where's the money, where are all those experts? there are all sitting in nairobi, spending the aid money on supporting their own lives. they should be here, working.'

he tried to insert the tube for a drip into a child's skull. i asked him: why not his hand? he looked at me, lifted the child's tiny hand and said: 'find me a vein here and you can have my lunch today.'

back in the hospital a man sat on a piece of soiled cardboard, holding his son's head high, a tube inserted into the child's nose. a visiting delegation from an arab charity passed by. they went up to the father and his child, and a man in a white jacket with the charity's logo kneeled next to the child. the father looked at him respectfully while he held the child's head and turned to face one of his colleagues, who was holding a camera. the man grinned, and the other man took his picture. 'ok, muhammad, it's your turn,' the kneeling man said, and they switched places.

"mike check!" one of the women cried, and with a unison roar the crowd repeated her words. this was "the people's mike," used in lieu of bullhorns, megaphones, or other amplification devices that were prohibited because the protesters had no permit..the crowd has to repeat every word